The Phanthumb of the Opera
by welshrose
Summary: A parody of The Phantom of the Opera, in the style of Thumbtanic. Script format.


THE PHANTHUMB OF THE OPERA

SYNOPSIS: A parody of _The Phantom of the Opera_, in the style of _Thumbtanic_. Script format.

DISCLAIMER: _Thumbtanic_ is copyrightO Entertainment and other copyright holders. The Phantom of the Opera is copyright Andrew Lloyd Webber/The Really Useful Group. THE PHANTHUMB OF THE OPERA is copyright 2005 Welshrose/ER.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:

The Phanthumb: a masked thumb that haunts an opera house

Kristina: a young singer and The Phanthumb's muse

Rule: Kristina's rich, slightly slow, fiancé

Old Rule: Rule as an old man.

Madame Creepy: Kristina's surrogate mother/stalker-type.

Auctioneer

Auctioneer's Assistant

Two work "thumbs"

Opera Audience Member

PARIS, 1920

A derelict opera house. Move to INTERIOR. People ("Thumbs") crowd around an AUCTIONEER standing behind a pedestal and his ASSISTANT. There are several items up for sale: a few posters, a music box, and a lump of something covered by a tarp. We then see an old thumb in a wheelchair and an old lady thumb standing across the room from him. Cut to AUCTIONEER.

AUCTIONEER: Lot 12 then: a music box in the shape of a monkey's thumb. We discovered it in the opera's janitor closet.

ASSISTANT: It still works, everybody!

Strains of music are heard as the music box plays.

AUCTIONEER: Do I hear four Francs?

OLD MAN raises his hand.

AUCTIONEER: Four Francs from you, my good man. Five Francs, then?

OLD LADY raises her hand.

AUCTIONEER: Five from you, Madame Creepy.

OLD MAN looks at her. MADAME CREEPY nods her head to acknowledge him.

AUCTIONEER: Do I hear six Francs?

OLD MAN raises hand. This looks like a bidding war!

AUCTIONEER: Six francs from you, monsieur. And…six and a half, then?

Tension. Cut to MADAME CREEPY. She considers, but then she shakes her head 'No'.

AUCTIONEER: Any takers? Last chance…

Cut to OLD MAN. He is snoring in his wheelchair.

Cut back to AUCTIONEER.

AUCTIONEER: I said, "LAST CHANCE!"

Cut to OLD MAN. He wakes from his nap with a start.

OLD MAN: Me! Me!

Cut back and forth between them.

MADAME CREEPY: Him? Not him!

OLD MAN: Yes, me!

MADAME CREEPY: Well, okay. _sighs_ If he must.

OLD MAN: Yay!

Cut back to AUCTIONEER.

AUCTIONEER: Right, then. Selling at six and a half Francs, then. Going once, going twice…sold to Count Rule. Merci, monsieur.

ASSISTANT hands the box to OLD MAN RULE.

OLD RULE: Wow, this old thing looks really crappy.

AUCTIONEER: And now, for our final auction for today: Lot 13, then. A chandelier. One not so old may be able to recall the story of The Phantumb of the Opera. No one really knows what happened so many years ago, but perhaps this magnificent piece of architecture could tell the tale. Or Count Rule could…WAKE UP YOU OLD COOT!

Cut to OLD RULE. He is back asleep in his wheelchair, snoring. Cut back to AUCTIONEER.

AUCTIONEER: Oh, whatever. Light this Roman candle, boys!

Two work thumbs remove the tarp covering the chandelier to reveal…a single candelabra with light bulbs that have been switched on instead of wicks.

ASSISTANT: Well, this sucks.

OLD RULE starts from his nap again.

OLD RULE: Did I miss anything!

The "chandelier" rises above the crowd.

PARIS, 1880.

The opera house becomes new again. And very shiny. Ornate gold chairs pack the auditorium and the "chandelier" hangs suspended above the chairs. Cut to a dressing room door. Cut to the inside of the dressing room. A young woman, KRISTINA, is sitting at the vanity and brushing her hair in an elaborate gown. She looks fresh from a performance. A much younger MADAME CREEPY stands to one side.

MADAME: You wehre fantastique, ma chere! Your singing teacher, also known az Ze Thumb of Musique, thinks you are 'ery hot. 'E gives you ziss az a token of affection.

_Pulls out a hankie with snot on it_

KRISTINA: Ew!

MADAME _embarrassed, hurriedly_: Oh, non! Zat iz mine. 'Ere iz yours.

MADAME pulls out the monkey thumb music box from behind her back.

KRISTINA: Ah. How…lovely.

MADAME smiles and leaves, closing the door behind her.

Cut back to KRISTINA. She stares at it in wonder, then puts it on her vanity.

Cut back to the door. We hear hurried footsteps. It swings open to reveal RULE as a young man dressed in a tuxedo.

RULE: Kristina!

KRISTINA: Rule!

RULE: Hey, Krissie! Long time, no see. Baby, you were so hot tonight. And awesome. Let's get married tonight so we can make out!

KRISTINA: Oh, Rule! I'd love to, but I can't. I was visited by the Thumb of Music tonight, and I promised him I wouldn't hang out with you.

RULE: Sure…I'll just wait outside for you to slip into your negligee. You keep it hot!

KRISTINA: No, Rule! Wait!

But RULE is already outside and shuts the door behind him. A gloved hand locks the door, but not before missing the key hole several times. We see a younger MADAME CREEPY. She has a…well, creepy smile on her face. Cut back to the dressing room. KRISTINA is seated at her vanity and is brushing her hair again. She wears a corset, petticoat, and garters. Suddenly, we hear a voice out of nowhere--it is the PHANTHUMB.

PHANTHUMB'S VOICE: Hey! That guy better SHUT UP if he knows what's good for him.

KRISTINA drops her hair brush and it clatters on to the top of the vanity. She spins round and looks at the ceiling. She looks rather stupid. But angels _do _come from above…

KRISTINA: Thumb of Music? Is that you?

PHANTUMB'S VOICE: Yeah, it's me. Look in your armoire.

KRISTINA: Why?

PHANTHUMB'S VOICE: I'm getting to that! Just chill out!

KRISTINA walks over to her armoire to find the PHANTHUMB surrounded by fog. He, too, wears a tuxedo, but half of his face is obscured by a white (or black, just to differ from the original) mask. Cut to Rule outside the door. He hears KRISTINA's muffled yell of surprise.

RULE: Hey, sweet cheeks! You OK in there?

RULE tries to open the door but finds it locked from the inside.

RULE _frustrated_: What the heck?

Cut back to the dressing room. KRISTINA disappears into the fog-filled armoire. This armoire melts away into a secret passage lined with stone walls, and a tiled floor. PHANTHUMB holds her hand as she walks along behind him. She begins to sing to the tune of _The Phantom of the Opera_:

KRISTIINA:

_Who is this guy?_

_This guy in a mask?_

_I need to know… _

_Do I even want to ask? _

PHANTHUMB:

_I don't take any crap from anyone!_

BOTH:

_The Phanthumb of the Opera is there!_

_Does anyone really care?_

The music stops, and we have arrived at PHANTHUMB's Office, which is really a janitor's closet. The closet is lighted by several candelabras. Lots of mops and cleaning supplies line the shelves around the room. There is a wooden desk in the middle of the room, perhaps the sort one would have seen in a school room 100 years ago. KRISTINA's face and name are carved in several places. In place of an inkwell there is a red rose cut off of its stem in the inkwell holder.

PHANTHUMB: You like? I prefer to conduct my business down here.

KRISTINA: Uh…in the head usher's closet? And what sort of business is that--_alarmed_ is that my _face_ on the desk?

PHANTHUMB: Yeah... But my business is the business of you.

KRISTINA: Oh… pause I kind of dig that.

PHANTHUMB and KRISTINA move closer to one another. It looks as though they are about to kiss when--RULE comes falling through the ceiling! RULE lands in a heap between them.

KRISTINA _pouty_: Rule! _You ruined the moment_! And that's my music box!

RULE _sheepishly_: Oops. And I think it's cool, so I brought it with me! You have no idea how hard it was to find this place, so I decided to jump through the floor. It was just luck!

PHANTHUMB: _Cough_. "Stupidity". _Cough_.

RULE: Huh? Sorry, what did you say?

PHANTHUMB: Oh, you'll be sorry.

The two men ("thumbs") scuffle and put their fists up.

RULE: Come on, bring it, strange man in a mask!

PHANTHUMB: Oh, you bet I will.

Just as PHANTHUMB draws back his fist, KRISTINA screams.

KRISTINA: AHHHH! STOP! STOP, STOP, STOP! This is ridiculous. I can only choose to stay with one of you.

PHANTHUMB: Pick me, pick me!

RULE: No, pick me! Pick me!

KRISTINA: I can't pick both of you!

PHANTHUMB: Let me make your choice easier for you: let me kill him.

KRISTINA: No! But I--

PHANTHUMB: This is your only option!

RULE _frantically, panicked_: Kristina, don't let him kill me!

KRISTINA begins to back out of the room.

KRISTINA _slowly_: OK, I'll…just…go…now.

PHANTHUMB: No, you can't _leave_!

RULE: Yeah, you can't leave me here with this nutcase!

KRISTINA: Can and will. But first…

She pulls a lever on the wall. The "chandelier" comes crashing through the ceiling and onto RULE. Dust clouds are everywhere.

PHANTHUMB: Um, baby, that was _my_ job!

KRISTINA _embarrassed_: Oh.

RULE _muffled from under debris_: Ow!

PHANTHUMB: So, ya wanna go get some coffee?

KRISTINA: Yeah, sure. Why not?

They walk off together.

Back to 1920. OLD RULE regales them with his tale.

OLD RULE: And that's how I became head usher after what's-his-name left.

CROWD: Oooooo…

OLD RULE: Did I mention we broke up that day?

CROWD: Ahhhh….

OLD RULE: You crazy youngins! You wouldn't know tragedy if it bit you on the--

OLD RULE falls asleep.

Cut back to 1880 for one last shot. RULE is a young man again. The opera house (still new) is packed with audience members for a show. The chandelier is no where in sight, but RULE stands at the top of the stairs to an opera house box (Box Five, perhaps?).

RULE grabs a man's ticket.

RULE: Third seat on your left.

OPERA AUDIENCE MEMBER: Thanks. Hey, aren't you Count--

RULE: Shut up and sit down. Next!

Fade to black screen.

THE END


End file.
